Matters of the Heart
by White Wolf1
Summary: When Robin becomes seriously ill, his friends take him to Halstead Abbey to be cared for by the sisters, which leads one sister to consider making a lifealtering decision.


**Disclaimer**: I do not own the TV characters.**  
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**MATTERS OF THE HEAR**T

by White Wolf

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Tuck finally roused himself from a sound sleep. He looked around the camp at his friends. Only Will was still lying under his blanket, though he was not asleep. Tuck's first thought was that it was too early to be getting up, so gloomy were the surroundings. Then he realized that the sky was overcast. There would be no sunshine today.

Nasir was just returning to camp with a load of firewood in his arms. He put it down, took a small branch, and poked it into the smoldering embers. A small spark flared, and Nasir put a few twigs into the center. In less than a minute, a small flame sprang to life. Before long, the welcome warmth of a roaring fire began to radiate outward.

"Where's Robin?" Tuck asked. A quick survey of the camp had told the friar that the young outlaw leader was nowhere to be seen.

"We don't know," John replied. He and the others had obviously already discussed Robin's absence.

Tuck had just finished preparing breakfast, when Robin walked into camp. He looked tired.

"Didn't you sleep?" Tuck asked.

Robin sat down and held his hands out toward the fire. The warmth was welcome. "No," was Robin's simple answer.

John frowned. Robin usually woke in a cheerful mood, a smile greeting his friends as the day began.

"Don't you feel well?" Tuck pressed, determined to get more information than was forthcoming.

"No," Robin replied again. He looked up to see all of his friends staring at him. Not wanting to cause concern, he forced a smile. "But I'll be all right, as soon as I get some of your food, Tuck."

The truth was far different. If anything, Robin felt worse than he imagined he looked. His body ached all over, and his head throbbed terribly. He could remember only one time in his life when he had felt this bad. He had been ten years old, and he had disobeyed his father and tried to ride a prized stallion known for its bad temper. Predictably, he had been thrown, breaking two ribs and his left wrist. After that, he had been sore or bruised on what he had been sure was every inch of his body. Despite his current pain, he secretly smiled when he thought about the fact he had successfully ridden that stallion three months later.

Robin took part in the usual breakfast banter. It was only partly forced. He genuinely loved these men and enjoyed the times they spent together just talking. He often marveled at how easily the Earl's son and the men from the so-called 'lower class' meshed together. The reservations he had felt when he first came to Sherwood as their new leader had melted away like a snowstorm in summer.

The outlaws broke camp and headed deeper into the forest to look for one of the king's deer. Their stores of meat were getting low, and they needed to restock. Robin had never had venison until he came to Sherwood and was introduced to the forbidden meat. He quite liked it, though beef was probably still his favorite.

As they moved along, Robin found himself dropping farther and farther behind. He just couldn't seem to make his body move fast enough to keep up with the others. His legs felt like heavy rocks were tied to them.

At one point, John looked back and saw how far back Robin had fallen. He stopped and waited. He was watching Robin's face and noted how pained it looked. The effort of traveling through the thick trees and twisting trail was taking its toll.

"You're sick," John said. It was a flat statement.

"I'm just tired. No sleep, remember? I'll be all right." Even Robin's voice sounded tired and unconvincing.

John wasn't sure if he should press the matter. Robin was probably right. After all, he knew himself better than anyone. Then again, it could just be Robin trying to hide how bad he really felt in order to spare his friends from worrying.

Robin saw that John was still uncertain. "I'll admit I don't feel good, but I'll be all right in the morning after I've had a good night's sleep." He hoped he was telling John the truth.

The big man nodded. He wasn't totally convinced, but he trusted that Robin would let him know, if he was really sick. Just to be on the safe side, John said, "If you aren't better in the morning, we're getting you help."

Robin increased his effort to appear as normal as usual. He was basically successful. None of the others questioned him any more that day, something for which he was very grateful.

x x x x x

That night Robin went to bed early. He tried to ignore the signals his body was sending to his brain: that he really was sick. He had convinced himself that sleep was all he needed. The notion of that not being in the least bit true was pushed out of his consciousness.

Each of the outlaws looked at Robin before lying down. He appeared to be asleep, so there was no more than a little concern. Each one believed Robin would wake up his old self. Each one was wrong.

x x x x x

The next morning, instead of Robin being one of the first to get up, he was still under his blanket when Will, usually the last to rise, had gotten up.

"Let him sleep," Tuck said before Will could make a comment.

When Tuck finished fixing breakfast, John, sitting across the camp on the opposite side of the fire, told Much to wake Robin.

Much turned and knelt beside Robin, and gently shook his shoulder. There was no response. Much shook him a little harder and called his name. He was starting to get worried, when Robin groaned and began to stir. "Breakfast is ready," Much said. He didn't move until Robin nodded. Then he went back to the warmth of the fire.

Robin lay there a few minutes before forcing himself to sit up. If it was possible, he felt even worse this morning. It had been near dawn when exhaustion had finally overtaken him, and he had fallen into a deep, dreamless sleep. Judging by the amount of daylight, that couldn't have been much more than a couple of hours ago.

"You look awful," Will said with his customary lack of tact. Irritating as he could sometimes be, everyone always knew just what his feelings were on any given subject. And, if they weren't sure, Scarlett would be happy to enlighten them. The man was a hothead, and he could be ruthless, when the need arose. His tirades were legendary, but basically, he had a good heart.

"You're sick," John declared. He stood up. "That's it then. We're taking you somewhere for help." His tone left no room for argument.

Robin sat and debated whether or not to attempt to argue. He decided that he didn't have the energy. Besides, it wouldn't be fair to continue to try and fool his friends. He didn't think they'd buy it anyway. Above all, he now believed he did, indeed, need help.

Robin watched as the five men gathered in a group on the far side of the fire. He almost laughed to think they were having a secret meeting to discuss what they were going to do about him.

The only reason John had called for them to move away from Robin was that he had it in his mind to take Robin to Halstead Abbey.

"Halstead?" Will said too loudly, though Robin didn't seem to overhear. "Marion's there." Will glared at John.

"We know that, Will, but it doesn't matter," Tuck admonished. "All that matters is getting Robin help. I know he's worse off than he's letting on. It' cold and will soon be wet, as well. They have the medicine there that can help him."

Much became irritated at Will. "You don't have to go."

"Course, I'll go," Will shot back. "What'd you think, that I don't care?"

"Bickering won't get anything done," John said, looking harshly first at Will and then at Much.

"Ahhh," was all the response Will gave, but the exasperation was clear in his voice. He walked a few feet away, then turned and came back. "_You_ tell him."

"_I_ 'll do it," Tuck volunteered. Without another word, the friar turned and made his way to Robin.

Robin had been watching with a painful yet bemused expression. He knew exactly what they were deciding. When Tuck reached him, Robin said, "You're taking me to Halstead."

Tuck wasn't surprised. He knew how smart Robin was, figuring things out that most people hadn't a clue about, which was one of the main reasons Herne had chosen him. Still, Tuck couldn't resist asking, "How did you know?"

The others had joined the two men by then.

"I'm sick," Robin was saying. "I need more help than I can get in Wickham or one of the other villages. It's cold and from the looks of it, a big storm is coming. I need to stay warm and dry to keep from getting worse. Halstead is the nearest abbey where there is medicine to help me." He looked at the little group around him. "That about cover it?"

"That's about it," John confirmed. "Let's go. It may be raining before we get there as it is, and, as you said, you don't need to get cold and wet."

"I don't like being cold and wet when I'm well," Robin remarked. It was a fact they were all well aware of. It was one of the few times Robin ever griped about anything.

Much stayed behind to make sure their blankets were protected from the impending downpour. He also put the fire out. It was then that he noticed Albion, point embedded in the ground, next to the tree near where Robin slept. The shiny blade looked like a lonely sentinel, standing guard over the empty camp. 'Robin must really be sick to forget Albion,' Much thought. The young man didn't know that Robin hadn't forgotten. He was trusting that Much would bring the treasured sword. Much grabbed Albion and Robin's scabbard belt and knife and headed off after the others.

x x x x x

It was less than half an hour later, that Robin stopped dead in his tracks. He grabbed his head with both hands. The color drained out of his face, and he began to sink to the ground. Nasir, who was the closest, grabbed him and eased him down.

Tuck and Will, in the lead, looked around, when they heard Much yell Robin's name. They turned back.

"What happened?" Tuck asked alarmed at what he saw.

John explained what they had seen. He took Robin from the Saracen and began to carry him as fast as he could manage.

It was less than a mile to Halstead from where they were, and the ground was open and relatively level. It looked like they might arrive there at the same time as the rain that was now pouring from the black clouds that pursued them.

With every step John prayed they would reach the abbey first.

x x x x x

Marion stood at a small window on Halstead Abbey's top floor, looking at the approaching storm. It looked to be over the heart of Sherwood. She shivered, thinking about her friends out there in the cold rain. She thought of Robin, having to endure the one thing he hated most--being cold and wet.

She shook her head, chiding herself for the ten thousandth time since coming to Halstead. Everything, even a storm, reminded her of her past life in Sherwood. She could see something or hear a phrase that one of her friends had once said, or one of a million other things, and the memories came flooding in. Most of the time they came without needing any kind of prompting. Even her dreams were invaded by The Memories. They had taken on such a life of their own that she referred to them as if they were a separate entity.

In these dreams, she often found herself looking into a swirling mist. Out of the mist came the face of Robin, the first Robin Hood, and her beloved husband. The Memories of him were bittersweet. He had been everything to her, and his loss had sent her into a tailspin she thought would engulf her. Beyond the pain and grief of his death, were the moments that had made her life, even as an outlaw, more wonderful than she could ever have imagined.

Then, in the middle of these visions, Robin's face was replaced with that of Robert, the second of Herne's sons and the new Robin Hood. She had tried very hard not to love him, because losing him, too, would have finished her off, or so she had thought.

When she found Gulnar's abomination at the Ring of the Nine Maidens and believed it was Robert, all the strength she possessed had dissolved. She had loved him, had even agreed to marry him, but it wasn't until she held what she thought was his cold, lifeless body in her arms that she knew she was in love with him the way he had always wanted her to be. Too late.

The past she had with Robin was gone, and the future she could have had with Robert would never be.

It had been her choice to come to Halstead. It had been her choice to lock herself away. The outside world may have been shut out, but the world inside her heart never really left her. The waking thoughts could be forced aside with busy work. The dreams could not be banished.

Inevitably, Robert's face was the last one she would see in her dreams. Robin of Loxley would forever remain in her heart. Robert of Huntingdon, no, he was Robin of Sherwood now, could have given her a life of happiness she never thought she could ever have again. His 'death' had crushed all of that. Now, she was just marking time until her own death.

When Robin had come to her that next day, explaining that it hadn't been him she had found, her mind had already been made up. She had said goodbye to him, and that decision would stand. It was the only way she believed she could survive the devastation his real death would bring.

Marion stood at the window until the rain began to hit her in the face. With a last thought for her friends in the forest, she turned and walked down the hall to her room. Just before entering, she heard the bell at the gate ring. She was sorry to think that the pilgrim waiting to be let in had just barely missed reaching the abbey ahead of the storm.

The huge thunderclap that boomed as she was closing her door made her pause and shiver. She had never been afraid of storms. This one made her uneasy. Was it an omen? She shook off the feeling and closed the door to her room.

x x x x x

Rain hit the outlaws only a few yards from Halstead's gate. Much had run ahead and rung the bell, so someone would have time to open it before they arrived. It was standing open, but unfortunately, they were all soaked by the time they crossed the courtyard and got through the abbey door.

Tuck recognized the nun at the gate as Sister Agatha. He didn't have to say a word. She had looked past him and seen the man she knew as Little John, carrying Robin Hood. She had ushered them in quickly.

When they were out of the rain, John said. "He's sick."

Despite her own wet clothing, Sister Agatha motioned for them to follow her. She encountered another nun who hurried away after reviewing instructions from her.

The Reverend Mother met them at the head of a long hall. "Robin's ill?" she asked to confirm what her eyes had already told her. The Reverend Mother led the way, as Sister Agatha hurried to her room to chance her habit.

At the end of this hall, they turned into a short hall then left into another long hall with a number of doors along the right side. The Reverend Mother stopped in front of the third door. She opened it and motioned them in.

The room was small, barely large enough to hold all of them. It had a bed, a nightstand, a small dresser in one corner by the door and a chair in the opposite corner. A large crucifix hung on the plain gray wall above the bed. Several burning candles sat on the dresser. There was no window, and they provided the only light.

John went over and gently laid Robin down on the bed.

The Reverend Mother followed them in. "You'll need to leave the room for now. Please wait in the hall. It won't be long before you can see him."

No more than two minutes later, two sisters arrived and went inside. The door was closed, leaving the outlaws to ponder Robin's condition and whether they had made it in time, because they now knew they weren't just trying to help Robin feel better. It was clear to all of them that they were trying to save his life.

Marion came down the hall. She saw the outlaws, and all decorum left her, as she ran to them, hugging each one in turn.

"It's good to see you, Little Flower," Tuck said with a mixture of joy at seeing her and sadness at the reason for the trip.

"Robin isn't with you?" she asked, trying not to sound disappointed. She shouldn't have been surprised. She had broken his heart, so maybe he didn't want to see her again, at least not so soon, if ever.

"They didn't tell you?" Will asked somewhat surprised.

"Tell me what? I haven't talked to anyone. I came down here to borrow a book from Sister Rachel." A cold fear began to grip Marion's heart. "Something's happened to Robin." She shook her head. 'He's died and they all came to tell me,' she thought. It took a great deal of willpower to keep her knees from buckling under her.

Tuck walked up and took her hand. It was trembling. The friar spoke gently. "He's inside. He's very sick, Marion. That's why we brought him here."

There was a sharp intake of breath as Marion's free hand flew to her mouth. She ran to the door just as it opened. The Reverend Mother and the two other nuns came out. The Reverend Mother gave her a knowing look and nodded. Marion rushed in.

Robin was lying in the bed. His wet clothes had been removed, and he had been put under the covers. His golden hair was still damp, and his face was pale. Yet, even in sickness, he was beautiful to her. It was the face in her dreams, though sleeping. No, that wasn't right. He wasn't sleeping. He was unconscious, because he might die. Again that cold fear gripped her heart.

Marion approached the bed. She sat on the side and leaned over, kissing him on the cheek. It was hot. He obviously had fever. This was so much like the time he almost died after being shot with a poisoned arrow. Herne had saved him then. Why hadn't her friends taken Robin to Herne this time? Surely, the Lord of the Trees wouldn't let his second son die. Surely, he wouldn't have let his first son die, either. But, he had. It was Loxley's 'time' Herne had told her later. Not again, her mind recoiled. _Not again!_

She was here because she had believed Robin had died. She had been wrong then. That loss could not come true now. Whether she was with him or not, _he had to live_.

Sister Agatha came in, carrying a small cup of amber-colored liquid, and between her and Marion, they got most of the medicine down Robin's throat with only a minimum of choking.

Then, Sister Agatha left.

John and the others, who had dismissed the need to change their own wet clothes, came in a little while later. They had knocked, but Marion hadn't heard it. Her mind was focused totally on Robin. She was willing him to recover with all the inner strength and faith she could muster.

She fought back tears. "He won't die," she said, as much to convince herself as anyone else. "I won't let him die." Her voice was low but forceful. Then the tears flowed, uncontrollably and unashamedly.

x x x x x

Shortly after midnight, the silence in the small room was broken by the rasping sound of labored breathing.

Much, who had been sitting cross-legged on the floor, looked up. "What's happening?" he asked, though he was afraid to hear the answer.

"He can't breathe," Will replied. He looked at Marion. "_Do something!_" He didn't mean to sound so harsh, but to him, since they were in a priory and Marion was a nun, she should be able to make Robin better. Will's reasoning wasn't logical, and he knew it, but at that moment, he didn't care.

"Please," Much pleaded. He knew how pitiful that sounded, but he was as desperate as anyone.

Robin began gasping. Every breath was a struggle, as he fought to get enough air into his lungs. He was losing the battle.

Without really knowing why, John pulled Marion up from the bed and sat down on it himself. He reached under Robin's shoulders and lifted him up. With no support, Robin's head tilted back as far as it would go. "Maybe he can breathe better if his neck is straight," John offered. He had once seen a farmer do that to a newborn calf that wasn't breathing right. It had worked then, and he prayed it would work now.

Sister Agatha was sent for, and soon she came with more of the medicine she and Marion had given Robin earlier. It seemed to help. Each of Robin's breaths was still a struggle, but he was no longer gasping.

Before long, his breathing eased to the point that John felt safe in putting him back down on the bed.

Twice more during the night, a different nun came in to give Robin more of the medicine. With each dose, he seemed to rest a bit easier, but it wasn't until the eastern sky began to turn pink that his breathing returned to normal.

John stood up and stretched. Will yawned.

Marion stood up also. "We have enough rooms in the abbey for each of you to have your own. You all need some sleep." Worry takes a huge toll, she knew.

"Are you going to get some sleep, too?" Much asked, trying hard to stifle a yawn of his own, triggered by Will's second one.

"I can't leave him, not while he's still in danger," Marion said, trying gently to let them know that just because Robin was resting easily for the first time, it didn't mean he was going to be all right.

Much didn't look at any of the others before he said, "We won't leave him either."

Tuck nodded his agreement. "We'll stay," he added.

Marion didn't try to talk them into leaving, since she wouldn't have let them talk _her_ into it.

The long wait continued.

x x x x x

Robin remained the same for the rest of that day and night. The group of worried friends had eaten little and taken only quick naps. So, by dawn of the third day, they were too exhausted to argue when Marion again suggested they each go to a room and get some sleep. She had pointed out that Robin would wake up feeling refreshed, and they would all be on the verge of passing out. They agreed to leave but only after Marion had given them her word she would go to her room and also get some sleep.

John was the last to leave the room. He shook his finger at her to remind her of her promise. She nodded and closed the door behind him.

Marion walked over to the bed and stood looking down at Robin. For the first time since he had gotten there, his face looked peaceful. She sat down on the edge of the bed as gently as she could. Marion stared at the man she loved: at his silken hair like spun gold, his flawless complexion, his generous mouth that had pledged to her his undying love and had given her such tender kisses. His eyes were closed, but she knew those blue eyes as well as she knew her own. She reached out and brushed his cheek ever so lightly with her fingertips. She quickly withdrew her hand before she gave in to the temptation to hold his entire face in her hands and kiss him passionately.

It was several minutes before she realized that Robin's eyes were open. She gave a start, then returned the smile that Robin had for her. "Welcome back," Marion said tenderly.

"Have I been away?" Robin's voice was weak. He didn't know why it hurt to talk.

"Too far away," she replied. In her mind she said, 'Almost too far to return.'

"The last thing I remember is heading here." He stopped and looked around. "We're at Halstead, aren't we?"

"Yes."

"What happened?" Robin asked puzzled. His mind felt fuzzy, and his voice sounded distant to his own ears.

Marion gave him a small amount of water to ease his dry mouth and throat. When he was settled again, she briefly told him the events of the last three days.

Abruptly, her tone changed. "Robin, I've come to a decision," she declared in a determined voice. "I'm leaving Halstead and going back to Sherwood with you."

Marion didn't get the reaction she expected. She was waiting for Robin to all but jump for joy. He had pleaded with her the day, here at Halstead, she had told him she was staying. It had broken his heart, but at the time, it was the only decision she could live with. Now, she was telling him she was giving him his heart's desire, and he just stared at her. Now there was a somber look in those blue eyes.

Marion didn't know whether to speak first or let Robin explain. She waited while she fought to keep her emotions under control. Her heart was pounding.

"You know how much I love you," Robin began. "I want more than anything to make you my wife. These last six months without you haven't diminished my feelings one bit. If anything, that time has made them stronger."

He had to stop for a minute and take several deep breaths. His voice had almost given out, but what he had to say was too important to put off.

He smiled and took her hand and kissed the back of it. "You once agreed to marry me. I told you then that I had seen in your eyes that your past was truly in the past. Do you remember?"

"Of course, I do."

"You made me promise we would never be parted; that we would face whatever happened together. I believed that then, but I may have seen only what I wanted to see."

"You weren't wrong," Marion whispered.

"Yet, you still left me." Robin's voice reflected the pain he still felt; as if it had all happened yesterday.

"I couldn't face losing you. I told you that."

"Nothing's changed, Marion. Look what just happened to me? Any one of us could die at any moment." Robin had to stop again. His expression revealed his struggle against the encroaching weakness. He forced himself to go on. "I think you aren't as happy being a nun as you thought you'd be. I'm sorry for that. I used to think about you here, happy and at peace. It made losing you a little more bearable. I think you honestly believe coming back to Sherwood with me will make you happy. I wish it could."

Every word stabbed at Marion. She knew she was the cause of Robin's reluctance. He had every right to doubt her. Look what she had done to him. He was only trying to protect his heart.

"Don't you think I love you?" she asked helplessly.

"Yes, but not the way I want you to or need you to." Robin felt Marion's pain, but he couldn't be less than completely honest with her. "Think about it, Marion. Your change of heart came while I've been here, and it's because I almost died. I don't know if you feel sorry for me, or if you feel guilty for leaving me. But either one is the wrong reason to want to go back to Sherwood."

Marion lowered her head and began to cry.

Robin never could stand to see her cry. He had to close his eyes against the overwhelming urge to ignore everything he had just said and take her in his arms. He forced himself not to give in to that urge. "What I said is true, isn't it?" Robin asked gently.

Marion realized she had just reached a crossroad in her life. There were two possible roads to take. She could acquiesce, stay here at Halstead and spend the rest of her life regretting that decision, or she could fight for her future with the man she knew she loved with all her heart.

Marion raised her head and wiped the tears away. "You are so wrong," she said so forcefully that it made Robin blink. "I love you. Do you hear me? _I LOVE YOU!_ What was wrong was sending you away. I've regretted that every day since. I couldn't make myself admit I had made a mistake, so I let my pride, or stupidity, or whatever you want to call it, dictate my life. I stayed here, desperate to find that peace I wanted. It's not here, at least not for me."

Her expression softened slightly as she continued. "When I found your double at the Ring of the Nine Maidens, I gave in to my fears. I'll always feel guilty about the unhappiness I've caused you."

Marion was gaining more strength and courage with every word. She straightened her back and met Robin's gaze evenly. "Yes, I felt sorry for you, when you were brought here: unconscious, burning with fever and near death. But, that is _not_ why I want my life in Sherwood back. That is _not_ why I want to be your wife. That is _not_ why I'm beginning to rave." That last statement caused her to burst out laughing. It didn't lessen the seriousness or passion of her words, but it did break the tension that had built up between her and Robin. She suddenly realized it was the very first time she had laughed in all the time she had been at Halstead. Laughter had been a big part of her life in Sherwood, and she was determined that it would be again.

"Please believe me, Robin. I do love you. And, I'll keep saying that until you finally believe it's true." On another humorous note, she added, "I can outlast you, you know. You're sick in bed and can't fight back."

Robin smiled. The sound of Marion's laughter was like music and the best medicine he could get. "The sparkle has returned to your eyes," he told her. "It's the way they should always look." Robin loved seeing it. He especially loved it when that look was directed at him. And it was that sparkle that made him know she really did love him - just the way he had always wanted her to.

"You do that to me," she confessed, matching his happy smile with one of her own.

x x x x x

Four days later, John, Will, Tuck, Nasir and Much left Halstead Abbey and walked toward Sherwood Forest. Hanging back a little were Robin and Marion, holding hands and kissing every few steps. Robin had stopped and picked some wild flowers beside the path and put them in Marion's beautiful auburn hair.

Tuck looked back and saw the young lovers in one of their many embraces. He smiled broadly. "Blessed be."

**The End**


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